Permanent Record

 

Picture: B-     Sound: B-     Extras: D     Film: B-

 

 

When it came out in 1988, Permanent Record was not a big commercial or critical success.  Keanu Reeves was not enough of an established star and the film had that rarity of a female director.  This was a lower-budget venture and the fact that it got made in the 1980s at all seems remarkable, but even if it was not successful overall, it has aged very well.

 

Alan Boyce is David Sinclair, the kind of young man who has “everything” and still lands up killing himself.  The friends, high grades, money, popularity, and a bright future.  He also seems not to have any pressure on him about anything, but as always tends to be the case, he has had too much of himself taxed upon unknown to him or those around him and self-destructs.  Though this affects everyone in the wake of his loss, none of them ever come to these possible conclusions and neither does the film.

 

Both of the guys have girlfriends, and in the case of Reeves’ Chris, the question comes up that should not he been the one who killed himself?  He was the underachieving slacker, after all.  By the presence of the girlfriends, the one thing that is also never considered is that David may have been more in love with Chris than anything else, the possibility that unacknowledged homosexuality (if never full blown or serious) was an underlying factor.

 

The obvious joke is what guy could resist falling in love with Reeves, but the film is never this condescending or stupid.  Skipping either any connection between the guys or other underlying reasons for such suicide (a boring living hell of what others define as success) are both skipped for the nicely-pulled off drama of the pain people who loved and cared for David must deal with and Reeves gives one of what is still his best-ever performances.

 

Director Marisa Silver has the right ideas and touch in handling the material and I dare say most male directors could not have pulled off what is achieved here.  The Jarre Fees/Alice Liddle/Larry Ketron screenplay is ambitious in the territory it goes for and all involved make this far above TV melodrama fodder.  Another reason is the supporting cast, which includes Jennifer Rubin, Pamela Gidley, Michael Elgart, Kathy baker, and especially Michelle Meyrink.  Meyrink is an underappreciated actress who had a run of a few films in the 1980s, then very sadly disappeared after this one.  She is still best known as the wired-but-adorable engineering brain in Martha Coolidge’s comic masterwork Real Genius (1985).  She has an incredible moment towards the end of this film that after all she shows as an actress, is stunning, literally able to bring the house down.

 

As for the issues of the David/Chris relationship, the film that recently finished what this film began is Scott Smith’s brilliant Rollercoaster (1999, which we are thrilled to have reviewed on this site, so check it out) that involves a similar suicide, but deals much more clearly with how the relationship of the two males affect each other.  By having a much more developed and convincing establishment of said relationship, the suicide there has far more impact.  Michael Cimino’s The Deer Hunter (1978) is a classic that also shows how the love between two men can be authentic without being sexual, but maybe that is the only limit having Silver helm this film produced.  With that said, the limits of the film are still outdone by its accomplishments and Permanent Record, with its titles aptly referring to unnecessary pressures on the individual, deserves to be uncovered by new generations in a world where suicides are on the upswing.

 

The anamorphically enhanced 1.85 X 1 image was shot by the able-bodied cinematographer Frederick Elmes and offers a look that is unique to 1980s cinema in its naturalness and tranquility.  This flies against the phony MTV look of the era that likely inspired more isolation and angst than the happiness falsely portrayed in so many bad Music Videos.  The transfer source is older, looking like what would have been used for the 12” LaserDisc and any TV broadcasts.  It also makes for interesting comparison to Laszlo Kovacs’ work soon after on Cameron Crowe’s Say Anything, another one of the few films that ever really cared about the teen audience it portrayed.

 

The Dolby Digital 2.0 Stereo offers Pro Logic surrounds, but they are from the analog Ultra-Stereo sound that the film was sadly released in theatrically.  The poor man’s Dolby was much more distorted and did not decode as well.  This film has the added plusses of music for the Rock band Chris and David are part of by no less that Joe Strummer of The Clash, one of the last great Rock bands.  A few other songs the Reeves’ character created were written by the ace singer/songwriter J.D. Souther, who made so many of The Eagles’ classics (like many on the Hotel California album) possible.  He also had the hit duet “Her Town Too” with James Taylor.  The music talent involved is as top rate as the theme of the film, and it helps extraordinarily.  It is also sad with the recent passing too soon of Strummer.  With all that, it is stunning that we get no extras whatsoever.

 

This is a likable film, but gets frustrating in how I kept wishing it would go further, but it does play better than when I watched it many years ago.  Any film, that does not degrade is audience these days is an achievement in itself.  It is not easy to keep the consistent tone Permanent Record does, and that alone is reason enough to see it.  If you did not like the film if you saw it before, you should absolutely give it a second try.

 

 

-   Nicholas Sheffo